the world is nothing but darkness
by Anrheithwyr
Summary: "I… can't." There is fear in the blond's eyes as he stares at his boyfriend's staring eyes; the younger male is shaking, the gun strapped to his hands trembling as he tries to remain composed. There is the fast beating of his heart and the heavy breathing of the male on the ground before him, but all else is silent.


**_Without line breaks, this story is 4, 999 words long. I swear, I counted__ it._**

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><p>"I… can't."<p>

There is fear in the blond's eyes as he stares at his boyfriend's staring eyes; the younger male is shaking, the gun strapped to his hands trembling as he tries to remain composed. There is the fast beating of his heart and the heavy breathing of the male on the ground before him, but all else is silent.

A masked man stands over him, radiating fury and hatred, pushing the blond closer and closer to the male on the bed, but he cannot make himself pull the trigger, cannot make himself take this life where he has taken so many before without even a second thought.

"I...can't."

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><p><em>Nine months previously<em>

* * *

><p>Fury is what drives Draco Malfoy to join the Death Eaters. Fury at the unfairness of life, of the unpredictability of it all, and fury at the fact that, of all things, his father was beaten to shame by a bloody tree branch until his own blood coated the dark wood.<p>

And it with this fervent fury that Draco Malfoy finds himself swearing his life and his soul to a man with a mask over his face, determined that he will be better, that he will rise higher than his father ever could, and that he will not make the same sort of mistakes.

* * *

><p>Petrichor.<p>

Charlie breathes in and out deeply, letting the smell of the fallen rain wash over him. His brother had been worried about the drought that has lasted all through the summer, but they have the rain they need now, and plenty of it, judging from the freshly wetted grass that he stomps through on his way out to the Inspection car parked at the end of their road.

They had not been expecting an Inspection at the Burrow lately, yet here was the car anyway, and the nicely cut man clambering from his car, looking distastefully at the run-down farm that has been Charlie's home for decades. Charlie makes the decision right then and there that he does not very much like this inspector.

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><p>Draco had thought the term "silver tongue" was merely that…a <em>term<em>, a metaphor, something that could never possibly have actually hurt you, because, of course, it was impossible to have a _silver tongue, _wasn't it? But when he sees Makarov bringing out the boiling metal, Draco nearly pisses himself.

He watches without a word as they pour the burning silver down a man's throat until he is nothing but the smoking remains of something awful. The dead man is long in dying, and the masked men let it draw out, savouring his tortured screams like one might savour a pretty picture.

This is not pretty, though, Draco thinks to himself as he is forced to remove the dead man, the hair on his arm singeing as he does his best to avoid touching the still warm metal. He looks down the throat of this dead stranger, amazed at the sight of the silver which has coated the dead man's tongue.

Draco is disturbed, but he does not even think to question why it is that he was so eager to join this murderous group of criminals and thugs only a few months ago. It had already stopped occurring to him to question his higher-ups.

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><p>The Burrow is a fire hazard, the inspector says, anyone can see that clear as day, and the lack of emotion in his voice makes Charlie scowl. The Burrow is his home, his livelihood, the only link he has left to a dead mother and an imprisoned father.<p>

Percy, too, is not pleased at the inspector's remarks, though for very different reasons than his older brothers. He does not like that the inspector shakes his head and says that a place like the Burrow will never sell for very much, certainly not what Percy wants.

"You're trying to sell our house? Our farm? Without even _telling us_ first?!" Bill demands of his younger brother the second the inspector disappears back into his shiny car and zooms away from the Burrow at high speed. "What kind of brother are you, Percy?"

"The kind who is thinking of our futures, Bill," Percy replied curtly, jerking his head in the direction of the little faces that peek out from the windows. Siblings, four of them, always hungry and growing and following around their older brothers. "We've got to take care of them, you know."

* * *

><p>"You're first target is a man by the name of Justin Finch-Fletchley," Makarov says, and Draco nods dully, wondering off the top of his head if Finch-Fletchley knows the power and greed that a man can hold inside of him when he has a gun in his hands.<p>

Draco has not yet killed anyone, but he has been practicing for several months, shooting at moving dummies and tree branches. He has killed three of the cats that prowl around on his front stoop, but nothing more, and he cleans everything up before his mother sees.

Draco hurries back to the house that should have been his family's manor, scowling at the memory of being forced to sell the elaborate family manor in order to be able to even feed himself and his mother, getting rid of centuries of history and memories of the Malfoys before him.

But now is his chance to turn everything around, to prove that he is not a failure like his father, but rather a _proper _Malfoy capable of running fast enough to keep up with even the cruellest of the Death Eaters. He did not care that his mother complained of the time he now spent skulking with what she called "that organized crime gang".

He was going to kill a man, take a life, and change a future. He was going to affect the outcome of someone else's tomorrow, and Draco almost couldn't help but smile gleefully as he wonders once more if this Finch-Fletchley knows the power of a gun. Because Draco sure does, and Finch-Fletchley will find out soon enough.

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><p>Percy leaves the Burrow for a full three weeks, stormy-eyed and scowling; Bill will not let Charlie run after him or even try to make contact with the younger Weasley, insisting that, eventually, Percy <em>will<em> return and things will go back to normal, like they always did when Percy finally calmed down after a big argument with his older brothers.

Charlie spends most of the three weeks doing his brother's chores as well as his own, worrying about the small harvest they will be bringing in thanks to the lack of rain. Things are not going well at the Burrow, and they grow even worse when the twins return from the pasture one day to report that two of their cows are now dead.

"We need him back, Bill. Percy's the only one who's any good with finances around here, and with all these letters about our debts, I'm at a loss for how to handle things," Charlie says worriedly to Bill over lunch one day as they watch Ginny struggling to keep the chickens in their hutch. "How are we supposed to figure everything out without him around?"

"We do as we always have, and keep on working. We've gotten these letters before, Charlie, and we'll get them again. But don't worry about any of it, Percy will be back soon enough and life will be normal, like it always is. Just don't stress out so much, you know?"

But Charlie can't seem to stop worrying, staying up late and pouring over the papers to find out how much in debt they will end being at the end of this season. Things don't look well for the Weasleys, and it is after the second week that Charlie breaks the rules and contacts his brother.

The phone rings, asking if Bill could please come quickly, as they think there has been an accident. But Bill is too busy pleading his case for another loan on the Burrow-just more money they'll never be able to pay back-so Charlie heads over to Statten Farms as quickly as he can in order to inspect the body of a kid no older than Charlie's youngest brother, Ron. The teen is identified as the only son of Murdoch Finch-Fletchley, a boy of only sixteen years named Justin.

The scene is grisly and disturbing, and Charlie wrinkles his nose at the smell of pants clearly soiled in the last moments of Justin's life. He does not know why someone would have a reason to kill a mere kid in such a gruesome and bloody way; the boy's head has been bashed in with a tree branch, which lies not too far away from the body, covered in bits of Justin, yet sorely lacking in fingerprints.

Charlie helps to carry the body to Justin's sobbing mother before driving back to the Burrow in sullen silence, deciding that he cannot, and will not, tell the younger kids about what has happened. He knows that Ron is merely a casual mate of Justin, but right now is that the best time to tell them of his visit out to Statten.

They do not yet need to know.

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><p>Draco watches as the burly working assistants of Statten hover over the body like vultures attracted to the scent of fresh meat. He had chosen against the gun just this once, as it was noisy and would draw attention. Besides that, Draco has always enjoyed being a bit dramatic, and taking his first victim with the same sort of weapon tha took his father fills him with a twisted sort of glee.<p>

He had enjoyed, even thrived, off of the feeling of Finch-Fletchley struggling against him as Draco swings at his hand with a broken tree branch. Never mind that Justin is, or rather _was_, the same ae as Draco, or that he was muscled from years of strenuous work outside; Draco has fury and rage and surprise on his side, and has left behind only a corpse and a bloody tree branch to prove it.

Draco smiles to himself as he sets his gloves on fire with a lighter, watching as a tall, red-headed man stomps over to the bloodied corpse of Finch-Fletchely. The red-headed male is not one of the hands that Draco has seen crawling around all morning, though he seems to be made of the same outdoorsy build, with large muscles that draw Draco's attention.

The man certainly does not seem to be a cop, considering how he merely grunts at the sight of the bloodied corpse and offers no possible explanations. The man shifts, briefly, to look at the very woods in which Draco is hiding-which makes the blond's heart speed up-before moving to assist the Statten hands in removing the body, a troubled look crossing his face.

For a split second, Draco worries about this red-headed stranger, but then he remembers his teachings from the Death Eaters ("You have no heart, no compassion, and no sympathy. You cannot afford to hold onto such things.") and everything is back to the way it is meant to be: with Draco grinning as Finch-Fletchley's body is carried away.

After all, Draco does not expect to see the red-headed man ever again.

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><p>Percy returns looking none the worse for wear, though he now appears to be a few shades tanner and won't admit where he has been these past three weeks. Bill insists that they not push the issue, because at least Percy is home and safe, which is more than they could have hoped for.<p>

This does not mean that Charlie is happy about it, though, and he makes his feelings clear by the silent contempt he treats Percy with whenever they are together. It is not in Charlie's nature to be rude, typically, but he cannot stop being angry with Percy as easily as flipping a switch, as the others seem to do.

He mentions the body to Bill as they work one day, paining the outer fence on the edge of the property. Charlie explains to him about the gruesomely mutilated body of the Finch-Fletchley boy, and shares with his older brother his concerns about a killer at Statten, which is not too far away from where the Burrow is located. After all, Charlie does not wish to return home only to find his younger siblings' bloodied corpses.

"You're being paranoid, Charlie," Bill says calmly as he continues to make a mess of both himself and the fence. "Just because some kid gets brained over at Statten doesn't mean there's a killer on the loose. Maybe it was one of the other boys, fighting over some gambling grudge or another, and things went a bit too far. Besides all of the nonsense at Statten, though, I'm sure Ron and the others are _fine_; we'll keep them safe from any harm that might arise."

Bill's words do very little to make Charlie feel reassured, though.

* * *

><p>His second target is a woman, sixty-eight years of age. A feeble, aging grandmother who looks too sickly to even get up from her chair; Draco has been warned that if it he does not act quickly, she will shoot him dead on the spot with a double-barrel shotgun, even if she does seem to give off the appearance that arthritis has begun to take total control of her hands.<p>

Draco laughs at the thought of some old woman overpowering him, but he slips on a Kevlar vest and enters through the back door anyway, just in case. He will not be known as the boy Death Eater who was taken out by a retiree.

He cleans off the gun without a word, wondering if he ought to burn his boots so that no one can trace them back to him, but then decides he is being excessively paranoid and instead merely packs his gun back up, making sure to avoid touching anything, even swiping his fingerprints off of the doorknob as he sneaks out of the back and jumps the old woman's fence.

The street is empty and dark, save for one lone man skulking near the bus stop terminal, looking forlorn. Draco isn't sure why, but he feels drawn to the man, and Draco makes his way over. The man is tall, with red hair that stops just short of his jawline, his cheeks perfectly curved, and his brown eyes looking down at his feet.

Draco hesitates, realising with a quiet gasp that this is the same man he had seen at the last crime he had committed. The same man who had helped carry away a body that Draco had left behind. For whatever reason-that, even later on the blond could explain-his heart begins to race, and Draco realises that he might be in love with this redheaded stranger who keeps accidentally ending up near the scene of Draco's crimes.

Draco is not the sort to believe in love at first sight, or even second or third sight, but as he makes his way over to the redheaded man, Draco thinks that he might have to revise that opinion.

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><p>A blond man is staring at him, Charlie notices, as he looks up into a pair of large grey eyes that strike the twenty-four year old as <em>troubled<em>. Charlie isn't sure why, but as the blond opens his mouth to speak, Charlie imagines flinging himself at this stranger.

He has known for almost eleven years that his is gay, but there have been out there that seem to emit the immediate spark of feelings; yet, somehow, this blond has already managed to do so without even saying a word.

He does not believe in soul mates, but at that moment, Charlie does not care what he does or does not believe in; he only knows that he might have just-and most likely already has-fallen head over heels in love with this stranger.

"Hi," the blond says, leaning against the bus terminal and offering Charlie and outstretched hand. Charlie shakes it, feeling his arm tingle with energy. "Draco. That's my name, I mean. I'm Draco." He gives Charlie a nervous (almost endearing) smile. "I don't live around here…uh, can you help me?" He seems to almost blush, and once again, Charlie's heart flutters. "Oh, and, last question…can I have your number, if you don't mind me being so forward?"

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><p>Draco has been seeing Charlie for almost four months old when he gets the name of his next victim. Charlie speaks very rarely of his home life, other than that he lives on a farm and has five year siblings. Draco doesn't even know Charlie's last name, but he is too in love to car.<p>

Draco also does not know who Percy Weasley is. He has no idea that Percy Weasley is the younger brother of his perfect new boyfriend, nor does he know that the two brothers are no longer on speaking terms. All he is aware of is that Percy Weasley is the next name on his list, and that Draco must never, _ever_ leave a name uncrossed.

Percy Weasley, he is told, is twenty years old, with glasses and a desire to do better in life. Other than the long nose and red hair, there is no easy way to tell that this particular victim is related in any way to the boy whom Draco is going to take out to dinner after he completes his next hit.

Percy Weasley, Draco discovers as he shoves the twenty year old male off of a balcony fifteen metres up, is a very easy kill. Good-bye, Percy Weasley, with the shocked and bewildered blue eyes. Good-bye, Percy Weasley, who demands to know "Why me?" when Draco stabs him in the sternum and twists the knife with a satisfied grin. Good-bye, Percy Weasley, who at least has the decency to die quickly and quietly so Draco can hurry on to his date.

But Charlie, who is handsome and funny and shy, seems distracted during the date, and asks if Draco minds him ditching early when a waitress stops by to drop off what is apparently an alarming message. Draco offers to accompany him home, and as he listens to Charlie stress over his younger siblings, Draco's worries begin to grow for the first time.

Because Charlie refers to a brother named to Percy, who is spending the weekend with his big-city girlfriend. Because Charli admits, with some shame, that he is part of the not-very-wealthy Weasley family, living on a farm in Devon. Because Charlie explains that the message given to him at the restaurant details the discovery of his brother's body in London bloodied from a knife and tossed over the hotel balcony into the fountain below.

Draco says nothing as he is led into the Burrow but he feels sick to his stomach as he watches Charlie go around and comfort all of the younger siblings with a hug and a few teary words. Draco's heart is pounding as he realises what it is he has truly done to this family to this man that Draco thinks he might possibly love. They have lost a brother today, and it is because of him. Draco feels sick.

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><p>"We weren't talking much," Charlie admits to Draco, sitting in the kitchen as Bill coaxes Ginny to sleep by offering to sing to her. "I was mad at Percy for being a git, because he was always running off…we were kind of on shaky terms, you know? A-and now…he was just supposed to be spending the weekend with his girlfriend, wasting away what money we do have to impress some girl…she found him, by the way, Percy's girlfriend did. Just as…as the response crew was carrying him…away…"<p>

Draco seems to have paled considerable, Charlie notices, and he recalls that the blond has previously admitted that his father has only been dead these past nine months. This whole situation with Percy must be reminding Draco of what happened to his father.

Charlie lets himself fall quiet, the two of them lapsing into an awkward silence as Charlie considers his desire to be able to turn back the clock so that he can run to the hotel and save his brother's life. Draco has already offered condolences, but he appears anxious, fingers tapping nervously, barely focusing on anything around him.

Eventually, Draco announces that it is late and that he is worried about his mother, and so, the younger male gets to his feet, letting Charlie kiss him good-bye before allowing Bill to show him outside to the family car. It is Charlie who is left behind to wonder how he could have messed up so badly that his brother is now dead.

Charlie lets his head drop into his hands and moans softly, not minding the prickling burn of tears springing to his eyes. He had thought that he was mad at Percy, but now that his brother is gone, all Charlie wants to do is be able to tell Percy that had never truly been mad, only frustrated and upset, because he was concerned about Percy.

But Charlie cannot say that now.

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><p>His training says only one thing when it comes to botched missions: eliminate all witness, until there is no one left who knows your secrets. And he knows the senior members of the Death Eaters will consider Draco's current situation as a botch mission; with six surviving siblings and girlfriend all out looking for a killer, it will only take so long before one of them finds some small detail that Draco has forgotten that will lead the police straight to the Death Eaters. Draco does not want to be the reason that the entire organization is torn down and dismantled.<p>

But he also doesn't want to say good-bye to Charlie Weasley.

So, Draco does not tell anyone. He does not mention Percy Weasley's family, or the fact that they are looking for the killer. He only silently accepts the stack of money handed to him by an official-looking man in a suit. His instincts make accepting the money hard, but he manages to keep a serious look on his face, silent and tight-lipped as the suited man thanks him for helping his bank deal with yet another indebted pathological gambler who has been wasting the bank's money away on a farm that will never truly succeed.

Draco nods, and tries to act like he could care less about some farmer's son with an addiction, but Draco can feel the eyes of a senior member of the Death Eaters staring at him, watching Draco's every move, observing his every twitch.

And then, suddenly, there is a hand clamped to his neck, and the feel of something thin and long being inserted into the skin just above his collar bone. The world goes dark and blurry, leaving Draco to sway until he collapses to the floor.

When he wakes up, it is to find himself chained to a chair, a gun tightly clenched in his fingers, which are tied together to rest on the trigger.

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><p>Charlie has always been a sound sleeper, and, according to his siblings, a loud snorer. Perhaps that is why he does not hear the clicking downstairs of someone entering his home, or the creaking of floorboards as intruders head up the stairs to Charlie's room. He is the only one at the Burrow tonight, as Bill has already dropped off Ron and Ginny at their great-aunt's house, and taken the twins to the cinema, as each Weasley does their best to cope with Percy's…<p>

It's only Charlie tonight, and he sleeps far too deeply to notice as men enter his room, dragging an unconscious blond behind them, with guns resting in every man's pocket.

When the redhead finally awakens, it is to find himself surrounded by masked men, each baring their right arm to reveal the skull and snake tattoo that is common of the Death Eaters, a well-known terrorist group who are estimated to have taken over twelve hundred lives in the past twenty years alone.

And sitting, chained to a chair, is a very groggy Draco Malfoy, his own arm showing that very same mar which Charlie has seen so often on the news, connected to murders, bombings, poisonings, and the mysterious disappearances of well-known British officials. Charlie blinks at his boyfriend, the boy who, only just a few days ago, had been consoling Charlie about the death of his brother.

And now, here Draco is, with a tattoo on his arm and a gun clutched in his hands, looking down at the chains wrapped around his waist and arms, looking numb and lost.

"What's going on, Draco? What did you do? What did you tell them?" Charlie demands angrily, looking at his boyfriend, who seems so small and childlike in the chair that Charlie is forced to remind himself that Draco is only seventeen years old. But that didn't mean that Charlie isn't furious as he lets his eyes bore into Draco's skull, burning a mental hole in the younger male's head. "How long have you been a part of a fucking terrorist group?"

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><p>"How long have you been part of a fucking terrorist group?" Charlie demands, and Draco cringes away from the older male, wishing he could drop the gun they have strapped to his hand. He wishes he could turn back time to nine months ago to smack that stupid kid who dared to join a group like the Death Eaters just because he wanted to prove himself, to prove that he isn't as useless as his father has turned out to be.<p>

One of the masked Death Eaters nudges Draco with the butt of his gun, and the blond sighs, still looking down at his hands, not wanting to see Charlie's eyes when all Draco can remember is Percy Weasley's bloodied and limp body falling over the balcony into a fountain pool below. Draco is nudged again with the gun, and he looks up to see the masked man nodding at Charlie as though to say "_you know what to do"._ And the awful part of it all is that Draco knows _exactly _what to do; he knows how to point and aim and pull a trigger so that Charlie will die, and the truth will die with him.

But this is also Charlie, his boyfriend of four months. Charlie, who loves working on a farm and cares for his younger siblings. Charlie, whom Draco has kissed and to whom he has considered saying the phrase '_I love you_'. Charlie, who is caring and kind and sweet and thoughtful.

Draco could kill him, of course, and it would be very easy to do, physically; but it would emotionally destroy Draco, who has fallen in love with a man named Charlie Weasley. And so, Draco knows that, in the end, he _cannot_ kill Charlie. He does not pull the trigger.

* * *

><p>Draco does not pull the trigger of the gun, and Charlie sighs in relief, realising that his boyfriend truly does love him. He feels some of the anger fading away as Draco shakes with the effort of trying to release the gun from his hands.<p>

"I can't…I can't…" Draco says, giving Charlie a scared look, as though he knows what will happen next for refusing.

Charlie leans forward to say something hopeful to Draco when one of the Death Eaters grumbles something and steps in front of Charlie, his own gun pointed directly at Charlie's temple, finger resting heavily on the trigger…

"No-!" Draco yells, and then nothing else matters, because he cannot find Draco. And then he can find absolutely nothing at all.

* * *

><p>"No-!" Draco yells, but then the Death Eater's gun clicks, and the next thing Draco knows, Charlie is leaning forward, head slumped over his shoulders, blood trickling from his face and down his neck, seeping into Charlie's night clothes, staining the cloth. Charlie is not breathing, not moving, and when one of the other Death Eaters pulls the redheaded male's face upwards, it is clear that Charlie Weasley is dead. There is no light left in those once expressive brown eyes.<p>

Draco lets out a harsh, gasping sob as he strains against the chains holding him back. He wants to…he wants to punch something, to fight someone, for killing Charlie, for…oh, _god_. Draco has been a part of all of this, helping to kill stranger who owed money or had powerful enemies. He has helped terrorists and all because he wanted to prove himself. And now…and now, Charlie is dead, and soon enough, so will be the rest of his family.

"Obviously, we can't just let you go, Mr. Malfoy," says the man who shot Charlie, bending down next to Draco so that they are level with each other. "You might try somebody, or tell the police, and you know we cannot allow that. You _know_ the rules: no witnesses, no one left to tell of your crimes. Dead men do not speak, Mr. Malfoy, do you get what I am saying to you?" He smiles, cold and cruel.

Draco nods. He has been expecting something like this to happen. He has been too involved, too attached, and now he is nothing but a liability to the group. All the fight has gone out of him; Draco knows they will not let him this room alive, and he is fine with that. Because he would rather be dead with Charlie than live on without his boyfriend.

He is in love with Charlie like he has never been before, and Draco no longer cares if he is killed, because Charlie is already gone…and so, he does not say a word as the man raises his gun and aims it at Draco's head, finger on the trigger once more.

And then, the world is nothing but darkness and silence and the feel of Charlie's arms wrapped around Draco.


End file.
